“Is this a birthday party or something?” the guy running the counter asks me. I’d expect a squeaky-voiced teenager, but it’s a greasy guy in his forties with an unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth. Must be the owner. I shake my head no. “Then what is it?” I squint, giving the track my hard look. “Today is the day I reckon with fate. The day I wrestle with my destiny to become the man of the house and win over my new heir.”
